Three Little Words
by britishtoatea
Summary: 2p Fruk Human AU Arthur and Francis have been together since college, and Arthur wants to take their relationship a step further. What happens when he finally tells Francis he loves him? Some sex, but nothing super bad M to be safe.


Arthur stood at the kitchen sink, his sleeves rolled up and his apron tied around his neck. Dirty dishes sat piled in the sink, obviously a few days old. He had a smile on his face as he did his boyfriend's dirty dishes. He'd invited himself over, like usual, to find the poor man's house in need of a cleaning. It never bothered him to do it. Francis was a writer, and had little time to worry about such trivial matters as keeping the house clean. He had a book to write.

This visit was like every other one, Arthur let himself in with the key under the potted plant on the front porch. He'd called out, announced his presence and was greeted with silence. Just like usual. He immediately took in the scent of stale cigarette butts and dirty laundry. What would Francis do without him?

It didn't bother him that Francis seemed uninterested in his presence. When he got deep into his writing it was always this way, had been for the last three years. He and Francis had met in collage, where they were roommates. Francis had majored in philosophy, Arthur in culinary arts. He'd wanted to be a chef. He'd ended up being a part time house wife for a struggling writer.

When it had come down to it, he hadn't had enough money to start up his own restaurant after he'd struggled to pay his student loans. So he cooked for Francis instead.

Their relationship had started off as something unexpected, more of convenience than out of love. Arthur remembered being lonely and confiding in his roommate about his hopes and dreams for the future. He remembered how Francis had seemed uninterested in everything he said, and he remembered how, one night, during one of his talks with Francis, he had been silenced mid sentence by lips slammed against his own.

Everything had been a blur after that. Francis had pressed him back onto his twin sized mattress, had peeled his clothing off with what felt to Arthur to be expert swiftness. The whole encounter had been passionate, rushed and in Arthur's opinion, over way too quickly.

In the years since, their relationship had gone from one of rushed sexual encounters to an almost domestic partnership. Francis still wouldn't let Arthur live with him permanently, and Arthur wasn't all too certain why. He always figured it had something to do with his fear of commitment.

The dishes were finished soon enough, and Arthur quickly untied his apron, hung it on the hook on the wall. He may not live here, but he had enough of his personal items here that to an outsider, it looked like he did. He was here nearly every day, and sometimes he stayed for days at a time. His clothes were here, his makeup, even his toiletries were here. He didn't know why Francis wouldn't let him stay.

Francis' study was the one room he wasn't allowed to clean, save for emptying the ash trays and vacuuming up the stray ashes that littered the floor. That wasn't his plan today, however, as he quietly pushed open the door.

Francis sat at his desk his head in his hands, hair disheveled and smoke billowing around his head. His poor dear. He had been working so hard lately. Arthur padded across the room, slid his arms around Francis' neck. "Why don't you take a break, darling?"

He was treading on thin ice, suggesting a break and he knew it, but as soon as he felt his lover relax under his touch, he knew that he wasn't in trouble this time. "Arthur…"Francis' tone was soft, tired. He almost sounded relieved.

Arthur loved this man, even though he had yet to tell him so. He'd always let his actions speak for him, and he was certain Francis did the same. "Come lie down with me, darling." Arthur had tried many times to tell Francis he was in love with him. Each time, there was something that just told him to wait, a voice inside him whispering to wait just a bit longer.

Francis didn't respond to his request, instead turned his head to the side, kissed Arthur's cheek before standing. Arthur expected him to head to the couch, plop down and fall asleep, but Francis surprised him, caught his lips in a kiss. His hands slipped around Arthur's waist, and gripped firmly at his rump. So that's what he wanted. Arthur smiled, pressed himself against Francis with a coy smirk.

"If you wanted this, all you had to do was say so." Francis had been so deep in his work the past month that he hadn't had time for intimacy like this. Arthur, always chipper and trying to please, hadn't pressed the matter. It seemed Francis had missed it as much as Arthur had. His large hands squeezed the pert mounds of flesh of Arthur's behind, and his beard tickled at Arthur's neck as his lips peppered him with kisses.

Francis was leading him back to the couch, and he didn't realize it until the backs of his legs touched the fabric. He lowered himself back onto the sofa, his petite hands undoing the buttons of Francis' shirt.

They moved with their usual rushed intensity, their bodies meshed into together in a frantic, tangled mess. Their hands groped each other's bodies, lips savaged by teeth and Arthur's throat was hoarse from his cries of pleasure. Francis always knew just how to touch him to drive him wild. He knew just how fast to move inside him, just how hard to bite at his lips, at his neck.

Arthur's nails raked down Francis' back, his legs wrapped around his waist drawing him in deeper. His words were a mantra, a prayer, "Harder… Faster… Right there… Oh Francis… Right there!"

Arthur came first, as usual, his toes curled and his body trembled from the force of it, and when Francis came just a few moments later and rested his body atop Arthur, it just came out. "I love you…"

He instantly regretted letting those words slip out when he felt Francis stiffen atop him. The silence seemed to last for hours to Arthur as he waited for Francis to say something, anything about his confession. Each second that ticked by only made him more afraid.

Suddenly Francis was on his feet, pulling his pants on, and panic struck Arthur dead in the chest. "Francis… wait! I'm sorry!" the look he got just confused him even more as his own pants were chucked at his face.

"Get dressed. Hurry up." He'd really messed up, hadn't he? Sluggishly, he stood, pulled his pants on without uttering another word, as tears began to fall down his cheeks. Francis was buttoning up his shirt, and pulling on his shoes.

"Francis… wait… Where are you going?" The look he got at that made his heart thud, and his tears stop almost immediately. Francis was smiling.

"Going to get the rest of your shit. It's about time you moved in, don't you think?"


End file.
